The Sound of a Baby Crying

Of all the sounds in a church what is more beautiful than the sound of a baby crying?

The sound of a baby crying means that there are parents brave enough to bring their children to church.

It is the sound that parents weighed the inconvenience of packing up their child to giving their child the chance to be with God’s people and being with God’s people won.

It is the sound of a congregation who is willing to hear beyond a cry and hear the sound of opportunity and blessing.

The sound of a baby crying is…

        The sound of hope

        The sound of faith

        The sound of love

From the old and wrinkled hands of Sarah,

the sound of a baby crying meant that God had kept his promise.

From the basket floating among the bulrushes of the Nile,

the sound of a baby crying meant that God had sent a deliverer.

From the humble manger of Bethlehem,

the sound of a baby crying meant that God had sent his son.

For wherever is heard the sound of a baby crying…

There is hope.

There is faith.

There is love.

Of all the sounds in a church, tell me, what is more beautiful than the sound of a baby crying?

Cat / Dog Theology

I have a cat, actually two of them.  I have a dog.  They are remarkably different.  Gerald Robison, in his book Cat and Dog Theology, relates these differences to our relationship with God.  One of those differences is how we respond to the care and attention of God.

When I come home from work and swing open the door my cats rarely acknowledge my presence.  In fact they often seem a bit annoyed that I have interrupted their busy schedule.  Usually reclining on the couch, they may give me one of those annoyed looks and then go back to whatever deep thoughts have occupied them for the last six hours.  When I go to the back door and call my dog he comes bounding up the steps with tongue and tail wagging simply delighted that I have safely returned home from whatever brave adventure I have been on.  Seeing me makes his day!

When I feed the cats they amble over to the bowl, sniff their food, and give me a look as is to say, "Is that the best you can do?"  When I feed my dog he goes head first into his bowl as if I have slaughtered the fatted calf for him.

I essentially treat them the same but their responses are so different.  My dog looks at me and says, "You feed me, you shelter me, you pet me - you must be god!"  My cat looks at me and says, "You feed me, you shelter me, you pet me - I must be god!" 

That comparison really got me thinking about how I respond to God's care and love for me.  Who do I see as the master?  How do I respond to his provision?  Too often, I must admit, I snub my nose at Him complaining why He couldn’t have done little better.  Too often I take His care and love for granted barely recognizing his presence in this world and in my life.  Too often I feel annoyed by Him and His interruptions in my life.  Too often I'm a cat when it comes to recognizing who God is.

This cat-like disposition we often have reveals itself in our approach to worship.  How many times have you slammed your alarm on Sunday morning wishing for another Saturday?  We grudgingly put on our church clothes and slink out the door and make the drive to church thinking more about what's going to happen Sunday afternoon rather than focusing on the time we have to actually thank God for what he's done for us the last six days.  We recline on our soft pews annoyed at the preacher's long-windedness, uninspired by the songs, and snoozing through the prayers.   When church is over we give God a snide look as if to say, "Aren’t you fortunate to get an hour of my time!"

What if we were more like dogs on Sunday morning?  We'd bound out of bed anticipating the time we can spend with our Master.  We'd drive to church with our tongues and tail wagging, overcome with excitement.  When the preacher mentions the Master's name we'd jump up and down.  We'd sing along with every song, no matter how we sounded.  We'd treasure every moment we had with the Master and when the hour was over we'd look up at our Master as if to say, "I can’t wait to be with you again!"

I suppose we'd all do well to see God though the eyes of our dogs.  To see Him as Master.  To recognize Him as God.  And to delight that he invites us to live with Him!  

It's been said that cats have staff, dogs have masters.  When it comes to our relationship with God, we all need to go to the dogs.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise;

give thanks to him and praise his name.

Psalm 100:4

Some Thoughts on Prayer and Football

Many from our community are upset by the recent ruling in Pottsboro prohibiting public prayer before football games.  I'm a little hacked as well.  I’d like everyone to pray Christian prayers wherever "two or three are gathered."  But another part of me thinks there might be something not so bad about this.  Here's why:

(1) No Christian prayer before football games means no other kind of prayer as well.  I suppose if we allow a Christian minister to pray we would have to allow an Imam to lead a Muslim prayer or a monk to lead a Buddhist prayer, or an atheist to lead an atheist prayer or whatever they call their meditative time.   I would really not like any of that at all.

(2) To tell you the truth, I rarely feel that throwing in a prayer before a football game while people are juggling their popcorn and arranging those big foam fingers is hardly a religious experience.  I'm suspicious that these types of public prayers resemble those condemned by Jesus in Matthew 6.  Just to remind you Jesus says, “When you pray, don’t be like the hypocrites who love to pray publicly on street corners and in the synagogues where everyone can see them. I tell you the truth, that is all the reward they will ever get. But when you pray, go away by yourself, shut the door behind you, and pray to your Father in private. Then your Father, who sees everything, will reward you. " Matthew 6:5–6 (NLT)

Why do we want to pray at football games in the first place?  Now, I'm not saying that there can be absolutely no pure motive behind the practice, but I think it tends to be more of a "look at us, we're praying" type of prayer.   It comes off to me as more of a prayer that makes us feel good and makes us look good and I don't think that's the real purpose of prayer.  Maybe prohibiting these types of prayer will get us to go into those private times of prayer where we more often see Jesus praying.  He normally went off by himself to pray, sometimes even on other nights than Friday!

(3) Maybe people telling us not to pray will have the exact opposite result.  Maybe we will pray even more when that opportunity is taken away.  I know I need to pray more and my experience is that churches need to pray more as well.  In fact, if we call a prayer meeting I can count on a low attendance.  We recently had a back-to-school prayer at our church and had about 12.528% of our Sunday morning worship attendance (that figure is not precise, I just like adding decimal places).   A group I'm a part of celebrates National Day of Prayer and we get a whopping 100 people out to pray.  We even feed them hamburgers.  Speaking of prayer and hamburgers, isn’t it odd that we try to boost our prayer meetings by feeding people?  Prayer and feasting has replaced prayer and fasting.  Something just seems wrong about that.   Maybe no prayers at football games will get more people praying at other opportunities even when the kitchen is closed.

Again, I miss the good ole days when we all read from the "good book" and could all recite the 23rd Psalm and the Lord's Prayer.  But we live in different times and if we are going to change this world for Christ we're going to have to do a lot more than squeeze in a prayer before kickoff.  Besides, Christians have faced much more serious times and by the power of God they've come through.  I suspect that a people seeking God can make it through this as well.

Anyway, keep praying!

Million Dollar Quartet

This summer our family made a visit to the Windy City, Chicago.  Eight of us took in as much as we could in a couple of days.   While there, we went to see a show called Million Dollar Quartet, a dramatic recreation of an impromptu jam session with four legendary pioneers of rock  'n roll - Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, and Elvis Presley.    On a December evening in 1956 those four legends all found themselves at Sun Records Studio in Memphis, Tennessee.  Sam Phillips, owner of Sun Records, had the wherewithal to record the session which ranged from Gospel harmonies to all-out rock 'n roll.

The show chronicled that night including the conversations that took place between all the characters.  The actor that played Sam Phillips was a narrator of sorts providing some monologue that gave historical perspective on the artists and the time period.  At times everyone on the stage would freeze while Phillips provided the commentary.  One of those freeze frames had all four musicians gathered around the piano.  With the lights dimmed and only  a spotlight on Phillips, he made an insightful comment that went something like this:

"All four of these men went on to have remarkable and successful music careers.  I only wish they could have enjoyed as much success in their personal lives."

That struck me right between the eyes.  You would think that these men who were adored by thousands and rich beyond most our imaginations would have lived the lives that all of us dream of.  A few Google searches and Wikipedia articles confirmed that these four men had more than their share of personal struggles.   Money, fame, and success may not be all they're cracked up to be!

We so often equate financial or professional success with happiness.  We think if we only had a little more of this or that, then our lives would be complete.  Just a little more and that elusive joy would follow right along.  We are so easily deceived into thinking that more stuff means more joy.

This may have been why Jesus said radical things like, "Seek first the Kingdom of heaven and all these things will be added to you."  It may be why Jesus issued sobering warnings like, "It's hard for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of heaven."  Jesus may have been on  to something when he told us that purpose, joy, and satisfaction are not found in the stuff of the world but in a relationship with God!  Jesus sees it as a tragedy when we worship the creation and ignore the Creator!

The Bible is replete with warnings about the deceit of riches and Million Dollar Quartet confirmed them all.  It's not that money is wrong.  What's wrong is what we expect money can do for us.  It is no replacement for the thrill of knowing God and the joy of loving others!

That production certainly entertained me, but it also reminded me that life is not so much a matter of what we accumulate.  Success is living a life in recognition of the God who made me and loves me.  Joy is found in loving that God and loving the people around me. 

After the show, the eight of us walked the streets of Chicago back to our hotel.  It was a beautiful evening in August and, although that night will never be chronicled on stage, as I looked around at those walking with me and the love we have for each other I must admit, I felt like a million bucks!

Buyer's Remorse

     A city boy, Kenny, moved to the country and bought a donkey from an old farmer for $100.00. The farmer agreed to deliver the donkey the next day. The next day the farmer drove up and said, “Sorry son, but I have some bad news, the donkey died.”

     Kenny replied, “Well then, just give me my money back.”
     The farmer said, “Can’t do that. I went and spent it already.
     Kenny said, “Okay then, just unload the donkey.”
     The farmer asked, “What ya gonna do with him?”
     Kenny answered, “I’m going to raffle him off.”
     The farmer said “You can’t raffle off a dead donkey!”
     Kenny said, “Sure I can. Watch me.”
     A month later the farmer met up with Kenny and asked, “What happened with that dead donkey?”
Kenny said, “I raffled him off. I sold 500 tickets at two dollars a piece and made a profit of $898.00.”
     Farmer, “Didn’t anyone complain?”
     Kenny responded, “Just the guy who won. So I gave him his two dollars back.”

That’s what you call a scam and no one likes to be scammed. I have a fear whenever I buy something, especially something of any worth, that I might be getting scammed. A term used to describe that pit in my stomach is buyer’s remorse. Here’s a text-book definition:
Buyer’s remorse is an emotional condition whereby a person feels remorse or regret after a purchase. It is frequently associated with the purchase of higher value items which could be considered “bad” although it may also stem from a sense of not wishing to be “wrong.”

Jesus sensed that some of his disciples may have been suffering from this condition. After all, Jesus made high demands on discipleship. “Take up your cross…”; “Whoever loses his life…”; “Anyone who loves father or mother more than me…” were all used as price tags of following him. Naturally, some might wonder if they were being scammed! To ease their anxiety Jesus told these two short parables in Matthew 13:
The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.
Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.

The simple message of these parables is that the kingdom is that treasure and that pearl. The kingdom is well worth the investment of a person’s life. No matter what you have given up, it pales in comparison to the kingdom.

There will be times when you question your investment. There may be times when things don’t seem to be all they were cracked up to be. There will be times when we consider checking into the money back guarantee. That’s why Jesus tells these parables – to reassure us that what we have invested in is well worth it. No matter what you have given up you need to remember that you have found a treasure beyond imagination, that you have found that pearl of great price. Don’t doubt one minute that giving your entire life to God is not worth it!

Jim Elliott, martyr and missionary, said it well: “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

The approval of one

I played my last organized football game on Thanksgiving Day 1978.  I was a senior in high school and, as tradition had it in Massachusetts, Thanksgiving marked the end of the regular season and for our team, an abysmal 1-8, the last game of our season.  Growing up I had dreams of football glory and had actually displayed some signs of gridiron proficiency, but as time went on my 5'5" frame made it clear that a future in football would be relegated to the world of dreams.  I was deep on the depth charts, but on Thanksgiving Day every senior got to play.  This would be the day I would prove everyone else wrong.  This Thanksgiving every coach would rue the day they overlooked the diminutive #18.  And I did get to play

I was on the kickoff team and my primary goal was to make a tackle and hear my name announced over the public address system.  To hear "Todd Catteau makes the tackle" echo through the chilly New England air would be at least some consolation to a disappointing career.

It was the start of the second half and we were kicking off.  I took my place to the left of the kicker and raced downfield.  Receiving the ball was the opponent's star running back.  He was at least 6 inches taller and 50 pounds heavier than me, and I had him in my sites.  What happened next was better than I could have imagined.  I sized him up perfectly and made a text-book tackle on him (I think they are still showing that tackle in instructional films to this day).  I drove him backwards into the turf.  The crowd oohed and ahhed and I waited for what would come next - my name announced for all to hear.  What happened next was worse than I could have imagined.

The public address announcer had misread my number.  Instead of giving credit to me, #18, the name called was that of the starting linebacker who wore #13!  He was having his name called all the time.  Everyone knew him!  I trotted back to the sideline in stunned disbelief - my downsized dream was dashed.  What happened next was a lesson I will never forget.

As I approached the sideline a coach made his way onto the field.  It was coach Blood (that's his real name - what a name for a football coach!)  He had known me for years, back in the day when I was pegged as a blossoming star.  He knew my disappointment and he knew my heart.  As I got closer he continued in my direction and when we met he grabbed my facemask in one hand, and with the other slapped me across the helmet and with a big smile on his face said, "Great tackle Catteau!"  That one, brief word of praise meant so much more than the roar of any crowd.  My effort was acknowledge by a coach who really knew me.

So often we play to the crowd.  So often we live for the approval of many.  I've learned that crowds are as fast to desert you as they were to embrace you.  The same crowds who cheer one day boo the next or even worse they fall silent as you drift into anonymity.

When comes that day when I trot off to my last sideline I hope to see my coach, my Master, approach me and, with a big smile on his face, embrace me with his nail-scarred hands and whisper in my ear the words that will mean so much more than the applause of the largest crowds - "Well done,  good and faithful servant."

On a cold Thanksgiving Day, on the sideline of a football field I changed my dream.  Instead of living for the roar of the crowds, I try my best to live for the approval of one.